


[Sham]Rock My World

by OoOMagnoliaOoO



Series: Reylo Holidays [2]
Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Sequel Trilogy
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - No Powers, Angst with a Happy Ending, Because She's Drunk, Ben Solo Is An Idiot, Ben Solo Needs A Hug, Binge Drinking, Blow Jobs, Cuddling & Snuggling, Cunnilingus, Doggy Style, Eventual Smut, F/M, Flaky Friends, Fluff and Angst, Fluff and Smut, Mildly Dubious Consent, Naked Cuddling, Penis In Vagina Sex, Post-Coital Cuddling, Resolved Sexual Tension, Rey Is Finally A Happy Peanut, Rey Is Not A Happy Peanut, Romance, Sequel, Smut, St. Patrick's Day, and so is ben, but we love him anyway
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-27
Updated: 2018-03-31
Packaged: 2019-04-13 19:39:45
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 11,810
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14119470
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/OoOMagnoliaOoO/pseuds/OoOMagnoliaOoO
Summary: Rey loves Spring. When the first flowers bloom in the garden, and the trees once again flourishes with greenery, she too sheds the frost comes to life. If she has to pick one thing about Spring that she truly hates, it’s the annoying Holiday that’s smacked down on the seventeenth of March. Where everyone dresses up in the customary irish-green; heavily decorated with painted-on shamrocks and fake accents. The holiday of the binge-drinkers: Saint Patrick's day.





	1. I

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is completely un-beta’d, so I apologize for any mistakes, spelling- and grammatical errors. They’re entirely my own. I sort of wrote this in one day, so my apologies if it seems a little bit rushed.

 

#  ☘️ 

 

Rey loves Spring. When the first flowers bloom in the garden, and the trees once again flourishes with greenery, she too sheds the frost comes to life. Gone are the big, burly coats and the oversized sweaters. Gone are the cups of hot cocoa. Gone is the seasonal depression that catches her off-guard every year with the first snowfall, like a carefully swung sledgehammer out of nowhere.

 

If she has to pick one thing about Spring that she truly _hates,_ it’s the annoying Holiday that’s smacked down on the seventeenth of March. Where everyone dresses up in the customary irish-green; heavily decorated with painted-on shamrocks and fake accents. The holiday of the binge-drinkers: Saint Patrick's day.

 

Even though Jakku is a pretty industrial area in the state of Chandrila, it still doesn’t fail to attract the occasional underground party in the abandoned warehouses near the docks. It’s highly illegal, not to mention trespassing on government property, but that doesn’t discourage the stray binger who somehow ended up on the wrong side of the subway tracks, and the underage drinkers who have narrowly managed to sneak some alcohol from their parents liquor cabinet without being caught.

 

The steady hum of the ship engines in the distance is enough to drown out the noise of Irish folk-music and the remixes of the latest hooks, which makes it the ideal place to host a party. And it helps that the local police-force rarely venture that far out the harbor unless there’s a grizzly murder to solve or body bobbing in the waters.

 

Rey won’t sweep under the rug that Jakku is one of the more crime infested areas of Chandrila, but it’s been her home for the past sixteen years and she wouldn’t have it any other way. The smell of cheap, stale fast-food, sewage runoffs, the salt from the bay, and the general stink of the district are all the things she associates with Jakku.

 

Although Finn and Rey share an apartment in the “nicer” area of the district, it’s still incredibly run-down. With the chipped paint falling from the ceiling, the faulty stove with two of the hobs being completely non-functional, the cramped living situation, and the A.C constantly trying to kill them - that’s not even a joke - it’s still “habitable” according to their landlord, Unkar Plutt.

 

He’s an ass of a man, almost as wide as he is tall, with a thick East Anglian accent. Although originally from Ukraine, his parents had moved to the U.K when he’d been just a lad - back in the early fifties. He hadn’t been back to his home-land since.

 

Rey is on her hands and knees most days for Unkar, **not** in a sexual way - though not for a lack of trying on his part. During the days when she’s not in class, or doing course-work, and she’s generally in need of money, Rey works at Unkar Plutt’s shady auto-repair shop in the more urban parts of Jakku. It’s smacked down just off route _244_ in the eastward direction; closer to Hanna City than the heart of Jakku itself. The only real advantage Rey has in working for Plutt is the close proximity to both the city, and the subway; which she frequents almost every day when heading to Uni - or college as the American’s call it.

 

It’s barely a twenty minute train-ride to College Square at the outskirts of Chandrila, and another ten minutes of walking to get to Chandrila University. Rey likes the school well enough, even if it’s sometimes hard work to juggle both her studies, as well as her work. Finn’s work as a security guard at a local pub - _First Order_ \- pays enough for them to maintain the apartment, and for her to cut down on some shifts at Unkar’s garage. It’s backbreaking work nonetheless, even with less hours, and Rey often comes home smelling of grease, motor oil, and sweat.

 

Not to mention the exhaustion which Finn can practically _smell_ on her when she walks through the door after every shift. Luckily today is a holiday, which means that Rey can sleep in for once and not have to worry about neither school, nor work. And she isn’t planning on getting smashed tonight, so there’s no chance of showing up at the garage in the morning hungover as a slag after a binge. Her shift doesn’t start until 2 P.M, thanks to Unkar’s tendencies to drink himself into a stupor every Saint Patrick's day and not be at work until late into the afternoon on March 18th.

 

Rey plans on spending the day sparsely sipping on some cheap pinot noir, with a good book on her lap, and her phone closeby in case Ben decides to call. It’s been well over a month since their Valentine’s day’s date, and she hasn’t heard a word from him since. He’d promised to stay in touch, but Rey isn’t holding her breath on that one any longer. And for all that is holy in the world, she won’t be the one that caves first. Though it certainly looks to be the case if she wants to see him again.

 

She’s not some damsel in distress; a princess waiting to be rescued from the tower by a handsome prince. Rey can take care of herself; the many years of survival under her belt a testament to that. But Ben had dredged up something inside of her that she thought she’d buried long ago: the need to belong; to rely on someone other than herself. She’d felt a belonging with him, like she’d finally found the missing piece.

 

Obviously that sentiment had not been shared. Mr. Tall, Dark, and Handsome hadn’t felt the same. Otherwise he would have gotten rid of that abnormally large rod rammed up his main-street, and given her a _call._ A simple text would have sufficed, but he isn’t even capable of that it seems.

 

Rey angrily huffs a strand of pale-brown hair out of her eyes, pouts like a sulking child, and crosses her arms on her chest in an exasperated gesture. It’s how Finn finds her a few minutes later when he slams the door to their flat open with an unnecessary amount of force; surely chipping away even more paint from the ceiling. “Honey, I’m home!” He exclaims in a sing-song voice, waiting for her to reply with her customary jests.

 

Normally she would have quipped back with: _“Oh darling, welcome home! The pot-roast is in the oven.”_ In her lilting accent, but today Rey’s not in the mood. She settles for an angrily scoffed: “Hey.” Finn takes two steps into the living-room before raising his hands in a defensive gesture; eyes wide and unblinking. He’s about a second away from backing out slowly to retreat from the metaphorical bullets that are surely going to hail his way.

 

“Uh-oh. You alright there, Peanut? You seem a little tense.” He manages to croak out awkwardly; not moving an inch. Rey shrugs her shoulders, keeping her eyes trained on the coffee-maker atop the kitchen isle. “Okay, who needs murdering?”

 

“No-one.” She mutters quietly under her breath, fiddling with the frayed ends of the quilt. She tucks her legs safely underneath herself, leaning back into the backrest of the old-leather couch. “Just not in the mood to talk.”

 

“That time of the month again?” Most men mean it as a joke, but practically **no** woman finds it amusing. Rey boldly shows her disdain by tossing a decorative pillow his way; narrowly missing his head. “Hey! I’m sorry, alright? I didn’t mean to poke the dragon.” The second pillow hits him square in the face. He goes down with an undignified huff, and a loud thump. She’d tossed it harder than she’d intended. “Alright, alright!” He scoffs from his now seated position on the floor. “Hakuna your tatas, Rey. I honestly didn’t mean anything by it.” Finn gets up, dusts off his pants, and scratches the back of his neck. “So… you wanna talk about it?”

 

“Not really.” She murmurs, grabbing the red wine from the coffee-table. She unscrews the cap, drinking straight from the bottle. When the burn has subsided, Rey wipes her mouth on the back of her hand; sighing deeply whilst balancing the Pinot noir on her right knee. “Men are jerks.”

 

“I hear ya.” Finn chimes in, and rummages through the fridge for something to eat. “Ben again, huh?”

 

Rey lets out another exasperated sigh, tossing back a big gulp of wine. She winches. She actually _hates_ red wine, especially cheap ones. It’s the only thing they can afford though until her next paycheck comes in on Monday; _if_ Unkar decides to be honorable and actually give it to her. _Probably not…_

 

“I don’t get what I did wrong, Finn!” Rey is on the verge of tears, but stubbornly holds them back. She won’t let any fall on account of Ben; with his big, brown eyes, and crooked smile. “He brought up his flaws, and I figured it was okay for me to talk about mine. Isn’t that what you’re supposed to do?”

 

“Oh, Peanut.” Finn wraps his large, muscled arms around her shoulders; squeezing tightly. “Abso-fucking-lutely **not**.” She shoots him a surprised look. “You don’t start talking flaws and shortcomings on the first date. That’s more of a relationship sort of discussion. You want my opinion?”

 

“I wouldn’t have asked otherwise.” She belches out sarcastically.

 

“He was trying to scare you off from the get-go. Men don’t bring up their defects on the first date unless they’re trying to get out of it.” Rey can’t stop the first tear from falling down. “Did he seem interested at all?”

 

“I thought he did.” She chokes out between sobs. “We even talked about deep stuff, you know? I told him about Maz, for fuck’s sake, Finn! Maz!” Rey exclaims; knowing that it means something to the both of them. “I don’t ever talk about her with new people. But Ben is different… or at least I thought he was.”

 

Neither of them say anything for a long time, Rey because of her tears and Finn because he can’t find the right thing to say. He rubs her back thoughtfully throughout the whole ordeal. She drinks _vehemently,_ barely breathing in between each new chug.

 

When the waterworks subside, and she’s finished half of the bottle all by herself, Finn finally yanks it out of her hand. “Hey, it’s not even five o’clock yet. Maybe slow down a little bit?” He suggest.

 

Rey sniffs one last time, nodding in agreement. “O-okay.” She clears her throat. “I really don’t want to be alone tonight, Finn.”

 

“O-oh.” His cheeks go bright red, and he’s resumed scratching the back of his neck in his awkward, slightly endearing way. “I was gonna hang out with Rose and Paige tonight, but I can cancel if you’d like?”

 

She shakes her head. “No. I don’t want to take away your fun just because I’m miserable.” There’s a hum from the fridge that seemingly calms her down enough to accept a glass of water Finn has gotten her. She gulps down on it, hoping to save herself from the headache and hangover she’s likely to have tomorrow anyway; despite her vows to not get too drunk. She’s somewhere between tipsy and pleasantly buzzed at the moment; hoping to maintain the steady level until bedtime. “You go. Have fun.” Rey manages a small smile, though it never reaches her eyes.

 

She’s fucking _heartbroken,_ and she’d only been on _one_ date with Ben. **One.** And somehow she’s already caught feelings.

 

Rey can see it in Finn’s eyes when the likely terrible idea appears. His expression goes from forlorn and compassionate to enlightened and giddy in a millisecond. “Hey! You should come with us!”

 

“What?” She snorts in disbelief. “Finn, I hate parties. You know that.”

 

“Yeah, I know… I know that I know-” He pauses. “Huh… what a strange sentence.” Finn shakes his head. “Anyway, I really think you should come with us. Might take the edge off whatever’s going on with Ben. There’s gonna be booze, and pretty boys.” He wiggles his eyebrows. “Who knows? You might even score.” He gives her a wink that’s supposed to be sexy, but only ends up being creepy instead.

 

She lets out a cackle of a laugh, slapping her knees. “You’re out of your mind, _Finni._ ” She uses the nickname endearingly. It got shortened from _Infinity,_ mostly because every binge, whether it be an alcohol induced one or just series related, feels like an infinity. Rey swears up and down that he could go for hours doing the same thing over and over again. She shakes her head. “Thank you for the offer, but I really don’t think that’s a good idea. With the mood I’m in, I’ll probably end up drinking myself under the table. And probably bringing you down with me.” She muses, playfully swatting his shoulder.

 

“Sorry, Rey-Bae, I’m taken.” Finn teases back. “But you should focus on getting _someone else_ under the table though.”

 

“Ew!” She giggles; slapping his shoulder again. “Stop being a perv, Finni.” But the more she thinks about it, the more it makes sense. A simple, dirty, possibly sleazy hookup with an equally dirty, sleazy guy could be what sets her mind back on her usual track. Just one quick shag in some back-storage closet could take her mind off Ben indefinitely. She grunts noisily, shaking her head in tandem. “I’m probably going to regret this, but alright. I’m in.”

 

Finn flies into a standing position faster than an addict spotting crack; whooping loudly, thrusting his hands into the air, and exclaiming a “Fuck yes!” before kissing her on the cheek. “Let’s get you out of those sad clothes, and into a dress, baby.”

 

“God, can you be even more stereotypically gay?” She gives him a swat on his bum; fleeing into the confines of her room before he can get revenge.

 

“I think my _girlfriend_ might have something to say about that, Rey.” He calls through the closed door.

 

“What do you mean? The playful bum-swat or the gay comment?” She retorts; standing in front of her full-body mirror.

 

“Probably both!” He shoots back.

 

She picks out the few dresses she owns, holding them up against her front. The red one, while sensual, isn’t ideal for neither the weather, nor the holiday. It’s just the tiniest bit _too_ slutty, but the whole point of the night is to go out, get wasted, and hopefully leave with someone rather than alone. Then again, it’s not her style. The plunging neckline makes it so she can’t wear a bra. Not that there’s much to stuff into it, but she still finds it comforting to wear one.

 

When she spots the large, unidentified stain on the back of the dress from their New Years party, she vetoes it and tosses it into the laundry-basket.

 

The second one is a baby-blue sundress that _sort of_ looks green in the right lighting. The broad belt that goes underneath her breasts makes them look bigger and more shapely. But it seems a little bit too naive and innocent to wear to such an occasion. She throws it back into the closet.

 

That only leaves two more dresses. One that is white, and another one that’s completely black; save for the thick, horizontal stripes that shimmer with sequins. The white one might hide any possible semen-stains, but dirties too easily from other things; namely wine and beer. The black one is rather plain and does nothing to make her look sensual. It’s long sleeved, and mostly formless. Come to think of it, it looks more like a sweater than a dress, she says to herself quietly.

 

“Finn?” She calls out, hoping that he’s heard her.

 

“Yeah?” He replies two seconds later; opening her door softly.

 

“I can’t decide which one to wear.” She poses in front of him, pressing the black one to her front first in demonstration, then the white dress. He takes a moment to contemplate, grabbing his chin between his forefinger and thumb while giving off a deep-thinking look.

 

“It’s a tough choice.” Finn offers after a while. “I mean, the black one makes you look flat as a board, but it’s warm and comfortable. The white one makes you look more tan.”

 

Rey cocks her eyebrow. “Not gay, my ass.” She mutters.

 

“Hey, blame Rose! She’s the one that made me watch three seasons of _Project Runway._ ” Finn defends. Somehow she’s not _entirely_ convinced that he wouldn’t have watched it on his own, but holds her tongue. If he really is gay then she doesn’t want to risk accidentally outing him before he’s ready. She just hopes that when, or if, he does come out that it won’t break Rose’s heart _too_ badly.

 

She’s more or less become part of their little family over the years they’ve known her. Ever since senior year of high-school, when the Tico sisters had moved from district of Hays Minor to Hanna city, the four of them had become inseparable. When Finn and Rose had decided to start dating right after graduation, it had posed a small issue in their little group. Namely the fact that Rose was slightly jealous over Finn’s and Rey’s living situation. Rey can’t remember what had resolved it, but she’s sure that there was a lot of alcohol involved.

 

She takes a long look at the two dresses again, tossing them both into the wardrobe.

 

“Hey, hey, no!” Finn all but screams, digging them back out. “You’re not throwing in the towel just yet. We can fix this. Ehm… how about you go with some jeans and a shirt instead?” But even to her ears it sounds ridiculous.

 

“No.” She brings out her phone, scouring her contacts for Rose’s name. In doing so, she swipes past Ben. For a single moment her heart stops, and she remembers why she’s in this impossible situation to begin with. With a reluctant sigh, and a shake of her head, she scrolls past it; pressing _call_ on Rose’s name. It doesn’t take long for her to pick up.

 

 _“Rey!”_ She almost goes deaf from the sheer volume such a tiny woman can produce. _“Finn texted me! So you’re coming with us after all?”_

 

She shrugs, feeling ridiculous considering Rose can’t see her. “Y-yeah.” She manages to stutter out. “I just felt like getting out of the apartment for the night.” There’s a loud bass coming from somewhere in the background, and she has to press one finger into her ear to actually hear what the other woman is saying. “Listen, Rose, I need a favor!”

 

_“Yeah, anything!”_

 

“Do you have any dresses that I could borrow?”

 

_“What kind of dress?”_

 

“Anything at this point.” Rey mutters, knowing full well that Rose can’t have heard it. “Something that screams sexy and confident.”

 

There’s a brief silence, only the sound of music coming from the speakers. _“Oh…”_ Rose teasingly drawls. _“So a screw-me-gown?”_

 

“Yes, exactly. Do you have one?”

 

_“Sorry, Rey-Bae, but I’m wearing it right now. Hoping to get Finn home with me tonight.”_

 

Rey visibly cringes. “TMI, Rosey. TMI. Is it the one you wore on New Years?”

 

She can practically _hear_ the other girl nodding. _“Yeah. But I think Paige might have a dress for you. It’s green, so it fits tonight’s theme. It shows off the gals perfectly. Not too much, and not too little. Hold on, let me send you a pic.”_

 

A second later there’s a ding. Rey opens up the attachment Rose had sent, zooming in on the upper part of the dress. “I do believe you’ve found the perfect screw-me-gown, dear.” Rey muses. “When are you coming over?”

 

_“Half an hour. See you then!”_

 

“See you.” She turns to Finn. “I’m gonna hop in the shower real quick, and then I’m gonna need your help doing my makeup.”

 

He just laughs. “Sorry, Rey-Bae… you’re gonna have to call in the experts for that.”

 

“Rude.” She mutters, without animosity, as she grabs the towel from her chair; disappearing into the bathroom. Rey stands underneath the stream of water until it grows cold; mind going around in circles.

 

 _What if I’m making a huge mistake?_ That could be true. She finds herself thinking about the “what if’s” and the impossible conundrums; silently wondering if Ben’s even spent a minute pondering over whether or not Rey was worth the shot, before deciding that she wasn’t.

 

It hurts. But she bravely holds back the tears, turns off the shower, and gets ready for a night out on the town. _What’s the worst that can happen anyway?_

 

#  ☘️ 

 

Rey quickly learns that a lot can go wrong in one night.

 

Arriving at the party in downtown Jakku, located in one of those old brownstones that were hugely popular in the eighties, the four of them had already been slightly buzzed. Rey from about half a gallon of red wine, and the other three having split a bottle of whiskey that Rose had stolen from her mom earlier in the week.

 

At first everything had seemed normal. They were four, attractive, young people in a city of possibilities; completely carefree of where the night might take them. Everything had been fine up until she’d been approached by a stranger in a green suit, looking suave and so sure of himself that Rey wanted to vomit. Either that or it was the wine working its way up again.

 

He’d been nothing short of charming, listening closely and with interest as she spoke of her major. The man, who his friends called Snap, was a nice fellow. A little on the heavier side, but with big, brown eyes that painfully reminded her of someone else. He kept making excuses to touch her in any way he could, first with a palm on the small of her back to move her out of the way of stumbling drunk girl, and then leading her towards the living-room to sit in one of the couches.

 

Snap was polite, always asking questions about her life and eagerly tried to learn more about her hobbies. Rey chatted with him for another half an hour before the gleaming band on his left hand became apparent.

 

“You’re married?” She’d asked in an accusatory tone.

 

He’d come clean on the spot, breaking down in tears over his crumbling marriage, his wife’s previous infidelities, and their five year old son that just wanted his mother back in their lives. Rey had left with a sharp rebuke; specifically telling him not to follow. At least he’d been gracious enough to actually listen; walking straight out the front door.

 

Finn and Rose were off in the corner, having a seemingly pleasant conversation. That is until her gaze turned hard, and the smile disappeared from her face. The shouts begun shortly thereafter. Paige, being the overprotective big sister that she was, tried to step between the two, but it only resulted in louder and louder arguments. Rey caught a snippet of it at the end, where Finn had said the absolute worst thing imaginable.

 

“Look, I’m not saying that we should _break up._ I’m just saying that we should take a break.” One of Rey’s worst nightmares were coming true. He was doing this _here_ of all places, in an unfamiliar brownstone while _drunk._ Rey saw the two sisters stalk off, Rose bawling her eyes out and Paige trying to console her. She should be a good friend and at least go up to one of them, but Rey couldn’t find the energy to bother with the drama in that moment.

 

She’d quietly slipped away, praying to _God_ that neither of the three had seen her.

 

Rey eventually ended up in the kitchen, where a group of people were sitting by the table smoking a couple of joints. Her stance on drugs were firm; in that she would never do them. Not even something as mild as weed. Even if it was safer than alcohol, she’d rather not have another vice underneath her belt.

 

So, without any other place to escape to, she took to the upstairs seating area. It reminded her of one of those old gentlemen’s clubs in England that Unkar had told her of. Cigars lit in ashtrays, men in suits sitting around spinning tall tales, and a pool table centered in the middle of the room. Nothing could get more cliché than that.

 

She took a seat in one of the sofa’s, nursing the wine she’d brought from home. When a second stranger approached her with a glass of whiskey, strong enough to kill a grown horse, Rey had - against her better judgement - accepted.

 

He, she was sorry to say, wasn’t as pleasant as Snap. The guy, Armitage, was a little bit too persistent; trying to get her to follow him into one of the bedrooms. She’d declined six times before he started putting his hands on her thigh. Rey had enough. She pushed him away, heading downstairs again; hoping to escape the red-head with an uptight, haughty appearance.

 

When she turned the corner that connected the kitchen to the dining room, she finally lost him. Rey was ready to call it a night. She grabbed the coat she’d brought, lifted her phone to her face and dialed the number to the uber.

 

More bad news. No ubers in this area were driving this late at night on account of the parades in Chandrila, the many people littering the roads, and because of the overly sketchy neighborhood she was in.

 

Rey wanted to cry. She didn't even try to stop herself this time; openly bawling on the sidewalk. It was at least a thirty minute walk back home, and she didn’t dare take the subway this late. No good people with kind intentions lurked there after midnight.

 

She felt the effects of the alcohol take place; making her stumble in her heels. Rey cursed Paige for talking her into wearing them instead of her comfortable sneakers.

 

_“You’ll want to look fierce tonight, girl. It’ll ruin the look if you walk through the doors in your converse.”_

 

Boy, how she hated Paige in that moment.

 

So there she was, in a strange neighborhood, in the middle of the night on Saint Patrick’s day; drunk as a skunk with no way home except for on foot. She should have stayed home… at least there would have been a possibility of some peace and quiet.

 

Rey realizes how stupid she’s been. She should have just gotten over her stubbornness and _called_ Ben first. At least then she would have known that it wasn’t going to work out. And that’s exactly what she does, at one A.M in the morning. She presses _call_ before she can chicken out; sitting down on the cold sidewalk in her borrowed dress.

 

After the third beep she almost hangs up. _Almost._

 

There’s some shuffling on the other end, and she had to pace herself from screaming at the top of her lungs.

 

_“Hello?”_

 

Rey gasps. “B-Ben?”

 

_“Rey?”_

 

“Yeah…” She mutters, laughing a humorless laugh. “Bet you didn’t expect to hear from me again. How you been?”

 

_“Fucking miserable.”_

 

The whole world freezes. “What?” She croaks out, fearing that she’s misheard him.

 

_“I haven’t been able to stop thinking about you. Fuck… that sounds so creepy. I didn’t mean it like that.”_

 

It’s the alcohol talking, it really is. Or maybe the pent up rage she’d been saving for the past month. “You’re such a fucking liar, Ben! If you haven’t been able to stop thinking about me, then why didn’t you call, huh?”

 

 _“I wanted to, but I… I… IkindoflostyournumberandIdidn’tknowhowtogetintouch.”_ He speaks to fast that she doesn’t catch anything after the two stuttered I’s.

 

“Pardon? Say that again.”

 

There’s a long sigh on the other end. _“I said, I wanted to, but I kind of lost your number and I didn’t know how to get in touch.”_ Ben says in a much calmer tone, sounding so abashed and shameful that she feels bad for yelling at him. _“I really hoped that you would call.”_

 

“Oh…” Her voice sounds strained, and the sob does little to hide the fact that she’s crying. “That’s… a relief.” She sobs again. “I really wanted to hear from you, too. I’m sorry for being so stubborn. I really thought you’d blown me off.”

 

 _“Rey.”_ He croaks out her name, sounding like he’s just woken up. Though to be fair, she had called him in the middle of the night. She didn’t even take into account that he might have been sound asleep by the time she decided to get over herself and actually call him. _“Are you crying?”_

 

“No.” She whispers, barely audibly. Even she doesn’t believe the lie.

 

 _“Rey. Where are you?”_ There’s silence. _“Please, sweetheart, tell me where you are. You sound like you’re about a second from jumping in front of a train.”_ More silence. Then a shout. _“Rey I swear to God if you’re thinking about-”_

 

She cuts him off with a loud wail. “No. I just… I’m drunk and I can’t get home.” Rey sniffles. “Do you have a car?”

 

 _“Yeah, I do.”_ Ben answers. There’s some loud shuffling in the background, as though he’s getting out of bed. _“Listen to me, Sweetheart, I need you to stay somewhere safe, and don’t hang up the phone. Tell me where you are and I’ll come pick you up.”_

 

“Jakku. Seventy-sixth avenue off the main-road somewhere.”

 

 _“Rey, what were you thinking? Jakku? In the middle of the night on Saint Patrick’s day.”_ He sounds upset.

 

“I live here.” She chuckles again. “Well, not here _here_ , but in Jakku.”

 

_“That junkyard?”_

 

Rey grows defensive. “Well we can’t all have a mansion with a pool in a nice neighborhood, Ben!”

 

 _“No, please don’t hang up!”_ He yells in a panic. _“I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have said anything. I’m sure it’s really nice during the day.”_

 

“Not really.” She mutters underneath her breath. “It’s a shitehole, but… it’s home.” The winds blowing in from the bay are really cold; working its way through the thin fabric of the borrowed dress. It’s like her bones have frozen solid. “Could you please bring a jacket? It’s really cold.”

 

_“You’re not wearing one?”_

 

“I’m barely wearing much of anything. Just a short dress.”

 

He grunts, in annoyance rather than arousal. _“We’re going to have a long discussion about that when I get there. You_ **_definitely_ ** _can’t go walking around Jakku in the middle of the night in just a dress. Are you wearing heels too?”_

 

“Yeah. Really high ones.”

 

 _“Are you sitting down?”_ She hears a door slam shut, and in the next second an engine roaring to life. It sounds like a newer brand car, probably cost a fortune. Then again, Ben can definitely afford it.

 

“Yeah. I’m on the sidewalk.”

 

_“Is there a bench nearby?”_

 

Rey looks around, spotting a few people walking hand in hand - more like staggering along in their drunken haze - but nothing more than that. A few houses that can vaguely be called “nice” in this part of the city. “No.” She shakes her head to add to the definity. “I can’t see a bench.”

 

 _“Alright, stay where you are. I’ll be there in fifteen minutes. And whatever you do,_ **_don’t_ ** _hang up the phone.”_

 

“O-okay.” There’s some awkward silence, only filled by the sounds of her occasional sniff or a few people shouting. Even this late into the night there are still people in full swing with their parties. She’s just across the street from yet another one, but it doesn’t look the least bit friendly. There are some big, hunky, muscular biker-dudes leering at her with hungry eyes; hoping that she’ll hang up the phone. She averts her eyes quickly. “Ben?”

 

_“Yes, Sweetheart?”_

 

“Can you keep talking to me? I really need to hear your voice.”

 

_“What do you wanna talk about?”_

 

“Anything.”

 

It seems that Ben has no shortages of stories to tell her. Things ranging from his fourth-grade field trip that had ended in disaster when one of the children had ended up missing - but later found napping in the back of the bus - to the time he and his friends had gone skinny-dipping in the Atlantic in the middle of the winter his freshman year of college. She’d managed to squeak out a laugh at that one.

 

The conversation got deeper, and somehow they ended up talking about his father; about the abandonment on his parent’s part, the late-night screaming matches, the general disdain towards one another. And so much regret, for not mending bridges before it was too late.

 

Rey sympathises with him, butting in with a few words about Maz and what a great woman she’d been. He surprises her by mentioning that his father had known her back in the day, when he’d still been smuggling guns across state borders. Maz had been known as quite the smuggler herself, even earning herself the unofficial title of pirate queen.

 

Ben tells Rey that he’s happy that his mother is still alive, and that he has dinner at her house every Sunday. Rey finds it endearing that he’d go to such lengths to try to maintain contact with his mother, after being estranged for so long. She’s so immersed in listening that she doesn’t notice the sleek, black car arriving in front of her.

 

_“Rey?”_

 

“Yeah?”

 

_“Look up.”_

 

Her eyes gazes through the windows, and it’s like she’s seeing him for the first time. Her breath is stolen right out of her lungs, and she’s falling even deeper in love. She ends the call, gets up, and brushes off some of the dirt at the back of her dress.

 

Suddenly she feels subconscious about herself. It’s like she’s lying naked underneath a microscope, waiting for him to take a long, clinical look at her. He’s even taller than she remembers, she realizes when he steps out of the car. He opens the passenger side door; reaching out with his free hand to grasp hers.

 

“Hi, Sweetheart.” He greets her with a quick peck to her cold, damp cheek. “I’m here.”

 

Rey completely _melts_ into his arm; burying her face in his shoulder. She can’t resist the urge to take a deep whiff. He smells like burning tinder, fresh pine, and sandalwood. It’s like she’s an addict, and his scent is her drug of choice. There’s a deep rumble from within his chest.

 

“Come on.” He draws, breaking their embrace. “Let’s get you home.”

 

But Rey doesn’t want to go home. Finn will probably be there, and she can’t deal with his relationship drama tonight. She’s had enough of arguments and heartbreak to last her for another few years.

 

She shakes her head. “I don’t want to go home, Ben. I can’t. Finn’s gonna be there and he-”

 

He goes stiff as a board. “Who’s Finn?”

 

“Oh. Finn. I thought I told you about him. He’s my roommate.” When Ben doesn’t say anything, Rey continues. “He decided to break up with his girlfriend at the party we were at.” She points towards the building in the distance. “I’d rather not spend my night listening to any of it.”

 

“Alright.” He doesn’t judge her for being a flaky friend. Ben accepts her for who she is. “Then how about you come home with me. I have a guest room and I make a killer grilled cheese sandwich.” On que her stomach gives a loud rumble. She hadn’t eaten since lunch. “I’ll take that as a yes.” He chuckles; helping her get into his car. She’d been right… a brand new _2014 BMW TIE-Silencer._

 

It takes a few seconds for him to walk around the car, and Rey almost jumps out of her skin when the driver-side door opens. He gets in, puts on his belt, and takes the car out of park and into drive.

 

Somewhere between the east tunnel leading to Hanna City, and the coast-strip, her hand ends up on the gear shift right over his. When she glances over, Ben is smiling widely.

 

“Thank you.” She croaks out.

 

“Anytime, Sweetheart.”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I had originally intended for this chapter to contain smut, but I couldn’t find a good place to cut the scene to make it fit. But not to worry there, little pups! There will be a second chapter out soon - hopefully in the next few days - and possibly a third chapter after that. 
> 
> It’s probably not the sequel you were expecting, but it’s the only one that made sense in my head. I tried working up a few drafts for a second chapter, but I couldn’t quite settle on a good topic or a title, so I just made it a seperate story instead. I’ve put the two works into a new series called “Reylo Holidays” wherein I hope to explore more of Ben and Rey’s relationship following the holidays of the year. Next one after Saint Patrick’s day will either be Easter or Rey’s birthday - which I place somewhere in April for this story to make sense (A.k.a one story for each month and holiday). 
> 
> Anyways, thank you so much for reading! A special thanks to all of those who left comments, kudos, or/and subscribed. While you’re at it, subscribe to the series itself to get notifications on future updates! See you next time!


	2. II

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Smut-ship sailing, o-hoy! Please, be mindful of the new tags!

 

#  ☘️

  
  


At the end of the street on 6th boulevard there’s a house. It’s huge, with vines growing on the brick walls, styled to look like a Victorian mansion. The columns outline the heavy almost black oak door, giving it an air of aristocratic grace. Only the rich and the famous lives in this part of town. That includes Ben, being a little bit of both. 

 

As the son of a famous politician, and of a disgraced airforce pilot turned smuggler, Ben has had his fair share of spotlight. The media coverage on his life  _ alone  _ would have been enough to earn him a place in the gated community. The concrete walls surrounding his garden is one of the things he loves the most; even if they do drown out some of the natural sunlight. 

 

His mother had taught him at a young age that:  _ “Anything that you can hide behind is your friend.”.  _ Ben may have taken that a little bit too literally in his teenage years, when he’d been constantly on the run from paparazzi. Though telephone poles and street lights were just not big enough to conceal him, which he’d learned the hard way. 

 

Ben pulls up to the gate, punches in the access code, and drives through. The driveway leading up to the garage is short, thankfully, and he parks his  _ BMW  _ just inside the port. When it closes behind him, Ben feels comfortable enough removing his eyes from the path ahead and glance over at the sleeping woman in his passenger seat. She’d fallen asleep pretty recently; letting her head roll to the side to lean against the door-frame. Her seatbelt gives her chin support, but Ben is afraid that it might be cutting off her oxygen supply. And, as drunk as she is, he’s also afraid that she might choke on her own vomit should the need arise. 

 

Careful, as not to wake her, he tilts her face upwards, and unclasps the belt around her. It disengages from the lock with a subtle  _ click,  _ barely loud enough to hear. Rey does little but stir at the shift. Ben opens his own door, climbs out of the car, and goes around to the other side to help her out. 

 

He gently shakes her shoulder, hoping that he can wake her up long enough for her to walk inside on her own. Opening doors in his house will be a major hassle if she’s unconscious in his arms the entire time. 

 

“Sweetheart?” He softly calls out, pushing some hair out of her face. He kneels down by her side, continuing his ministrations. “Sweetheart? You have to wake up. We’re here.” 

 

The young woman just grunts and turns away to resume her sleeping. Her light snoring indicates that she has no intention of waking up anytime soon. For one fleeting moment he contemplates letting her sleep it off in his car. Not out of animosity or anything like that… it’s just that she looks so peaceful. There’s a tug on his heartstrings a moment later when she parts her lips, murmurs a soft  _ Ben,  _ and sighs in complete and utter content. 

 

He can’t help grinning like a fool. Everything about this young woman makes him want to wrap her up in a blanket, give her some hot cocoa, and snuggle her forever. Rey shivers for a second. He throws a quick glance at the thermometer in the corner. It’s nearing mid forties; cold winds blowing in from underneath the garage port. That settles it… he can’t leave her out here to freeze the entire night. 

 

“Rey.” He tries again to wake her; this time shaking a little bit harder. 

 

“Mmh?” Her lips are pressed together tightly; her cedar eyes groggy and red from both sleep and the night’s tears. She rubs them carefully, finally opening her mouth to let out a big yawn. Rey stretches one of her arms above her head, her hand hitting the ceiling of his car. “Are we home?” 

 

_ Home…  _

 

She’d called his house  _ home.  _ As though she lives here, too. It doesn’t enrage him. Quite the opposite. It makes him happy beyond what words can describe. Hopefully one day in the future, she will call it home and actually mean it. 

 

“Yes, Sweetheart. We’re home.” He grabs her hand, and helps her get out. It’s a lot of maneuvering involved, and being as drunk as she is isn’t helping their current situation. She moves slowly and sluggishly. When she bumps her head against the frame, he cringes and waits for the curses to start falling off her tongue. She surprises him by laughing; clutching the injured spot between her hands. 

 

“Ouch.” She mutters between the giggles. “That hurt.” 

 

“I bet.” He chimes in. Ben drags his hand across the expanse of flesh behind her bare arm; trying to get her to rise without injuring herself further. It’s a success when he gets her to her feet without more difficulties, and only a  _ slight  _ stumble when her ankle gives out. She hasn’t let out another  _ ouch  _ so he guesses that it wasn’t all that painful. But the heels have to go, nonetheless. 

 

He gets down on his knees, unfastens the small clasp at her ankles; sliding the shoes off her feet. They’re angry, red, and swollen from all the walking and standing around. He’ll make a note of that and possibly even draw her a bath if she’s feeling up for it. 

 

With both of the ridiculously high heels in his hands, he lets her hang onto the crook of his arm for support as he guides her towards the doorway; which connects the garage to the house. All throughout he keeps muttering words of encouragement when she doesn’t stumble or fall. 

 

“My feet are cold.” She complains with a cute pout. It’s a concrete floor without any heating, but it must feel bitingly crisp against the underside of her bare feet. 

 

“We’re almost there.” He assures her; finally opening up the door. The house is dark, and the lightswitch is two feet away, but he manages to get both himself and her there without complications. He motions for her to take a seat on the davenport in his hallway; taking off his own shoes and placing them on the shoe-rack. 

 

“Nice place you’ve got.” She compliments, taking a long hard look at one of the paintings hanging in the foyer. A commissioned piece that he’d gotten for his birthday two years ago from his mother; made by an artist he can’t remember the name of. All he knows is that it’s called:  _ “The winter song of sorrows.”  _

 

In it, two figures are standing mere feet apart, engaging in a duel with sabers that glow. One is the shade of molten lava, and the other the color of a clear summer sky. The figure wielding the crimson blade is a man, but he’s unsure if the other is a woman, or a man with a short stature. 

 

His mother had gotten it for a bargain when the artist had decided that they needed the money more than the painting. Rey is complete enticed by it; so engrossed that she doesn’t even realize that she’s gotten up from the sofa. Ben stands behind her, one hand on the small of her back; looking at the same masterpiece. 

 

“I can’t remember the name of the artist, but my mother got it for me for my birthday a few years back.” He explains to her. She stands, mouth agape, tracing every stroke of the brush with an amazed expression. “Do you like it?” 

 

“It’s as I remember it.” She confesses, gently dragging a finger across the canvas. “I can’t believe you were the one who ended up with it.” 

 

Ben is puzzled. “What?” He asks in disbelief. 

 

“I painted this senior year of high-school as my final project for art-class. I’d forgotten it even existed.” Her smile is wide and toothy as she turns to face him. “There was a lady that came by Maz’s cantina one day, right as my shift had begun. It was just hanging there on the wall. She was so moved by the painting that she asked if she could buy it.” 

 

“So you sold it?” 

 

“I didn't have a choice. Maz was dying, and I needed the money. She paid three times what it’s worth.” Her eyes gloss over, almost as though she’s deep in thought. “I used to have this recurring dream that I was weilding a saber. Then this man,” She slowly traces the lines of the male figure. “Came along and tried to kill me. We fought in that snowy forest, and I… I woke up, sat down, and began to paint. It seems like an eternity has passed since then.” 

 

Destiny. There’s no other way to describe it. To think, that he ended up with  _ her  _ painting. Somehow, the universe decided that they had to meet; for this exact reason. Her drunken mind has become completely sober; everything clear as crystal. 

 

“I fell in love with it the moment I saw it.” Ben says candidly, admiring the view of both the painting and its maker. “I was going through some difficult times after my father passed. I just took one look at it and…” He takes a shaky breath. “Things got a little easier.” 

 

For some reason, the look she’s giving him goes straight to his soul. Rey is looking at him like he  _ understands  _ what her emotional state was like while painting it. Ben goes on to study it more intensely. While he always gives it a quick look whenever he walks into the house, it’s not until he’s feeling down that he actually takes the time to actually  _ see  _ it. 

 

He understands now that he’s practically gazing at a piece of her soul. All the hours, the work, the emotional badgering she’d had to endure to get this finished; only to have to sell it because of her lack of funds. Ben wants to bang his fist into the nearest wall and bludgeon it until it’s completely ruined. Life is unfair to many, but this woman has been through enough. 

 

“Yeah.” Rey murmurs; forlorn look seemingly permanently etched into her latte-colored eyes. “But I’m glad that it ended up with someone like you.” She gives him a playful bump with her hip. 

 

“Someone like me?” He questions. 

 

“Someone who appreciates it. I don’t know what I would have done if I found out someone had it just sitting in storage, collecting dust. No artist wants their greatest work to be kept from the world. I would have loved for it to be displayed in a gallery, but like I said… I didn’t have the funds to keep it.” 

 

“You can have it back, if you want.” He says before he can stop himself. “I’d be sad to see it go, but if you want it-”

 

“No.” She answers curtly, shaking her head. “It’s in safe hands. I trust that you’ll take care of it.” She pauses, takes a deep, shaky breath, and turns to face him fully. Her arms ends up around his shoulders; her eyes peering into his. “Besides… if we’re gonna keep seeing each other, I’ll see it often enough.” 

 

His heart skips a beat; breath hitching in his throat. “You wanna keep seeing me?” 

 

“Of course I do, dummy.” She leans in closer; taking her bottom lip between her teeth. “I wouldn’t have kept your number if I didn’t. And I definitely wouldn’t have called you to come pick me up while I was drunk if I didn’t trust you.” 

 

_ Trust… she trusts him.  _

 

Before he can register what’s happening, Rey is leaning in closer and closer until he can feel her breath fanning out across his face. She smells like cheap liquor; like she’s dragged an entire bar into his presence. But that won’t discourage Ben from closing the gap between them, and capture those soft looking lips with his own. And so he does. 

 

He’s not wrong. They’re soft. Like kissing a cloud. Rey wraps her arms tighter around his neck; dragging him downwards slightly to get a better angle. Out of her heels, she barely reaches up to his collarbone. The kiss is only a  _ little  _ bit awkward, considering the fact that she’s drunk, and he has to bend quite a bit to effectively deepen it, but they find a way. 

 

Rey spreads her lips, giving him better access to her mouth. He drags his tongue across her bottom lip, sinking his teeth softly into it before sucking. She moans loudly; reminding him of an anaconda with her death-like grip around his neck. 

 

It feels like it’s going on forever. By the time they part for air, they’re both panting. Her eyes are glossy; pupils drowning out the natural mocha-color. Her lips are wet and parted. She keens softly, running her fingers through his hair. Ben can’t resist the urge to moan at how good it feels when she massages his scalp with her nails. 

 

“Take me to bed.” She says in such a hushed tone that Ben thinks he’s imagined it. 

 

Ben is hesitant, though. “You’re drunk. It’s not right.” 

 

Rey pouts deeply. “That hasn’t stopped guys in the past.” He wants to press the issue further, and ask just  _ who  _ in their right mind could have done that to her, but he can’t even speak when she kisses him again. All the blood from his head shoots down to his half-hard cock. Every rational and moral thought he’s had from the second he picked her up scatter like dust in the wind. In this moment he’d give anything just to have her. 

 

She breaks the embrace altogether, grabs ahold of his hand, and starts leading him further into the house. She takes note of all of his little tells as she tries to navigate them towards the bedroom. A hitch in his breath indicates that she’s getting closer. They end up at the bottom of the stairs, when he finally tugs her hand. 

 

“Wait.” He exclaims. Rey stops. “Let me make you something to eat first. Sounds good?” 

 

She huffs out a breath. “Any other day of the week, I would have loved to take you up on that offer. But right now I’m too horny to eat. Please, Ben? Please?” His cock jolts to life, and he grows painfully hard in his trousers. He throws one last look down the hallway leading to the kitchen, and then back to her. His mind is made up. 

 

“Alright.” He agrees; following her up the stairs. 

  
  


#  ☘️

 

  
  
Ben isn’t sure how they ended up in this position so quickly. Everything from reaching the top floor, and to his door had been a blur. He recalls her pressing him up against the wall; crashing her lips into his. They’d stumbled through the hallway, dropping their clothes wherever they stood. When they’d finally reached his door, he was down a jacket and a shirt. Rey had tossed her dress to the hardwood floor just outside his room. She’d fallen backwards into his bed in nothing but her lacy black underwear; parting her legs seductively for him to lie between. 

 

He’d looked down on her with so much adoration and lust that he felt like he was about to explode. Her long, shapely, taunt legs, works their way around his waist; pulling him downwards. They were stronger and more muscled than they looked. He grabs ahold of her left thigh; giving it a squeeze. 

 

Her patience wears thin quickly, and she digs her hands into the seams of his trousers; tugging them down. Ben sits back on the heels of his feet, undoes the buttons and the zipper, and finally pushes them onto the carpet. He’s left just as bare as she is, in just his underwear. They do nothing to conceal his want; his arousal tenting the front of his boxer-briefs. Rey bites seductively into her lip; fingers dancing across the hem of his underwear. 

 

He playfully swats her hand away; leaning forward to lift her up slightly. He reaches behind her back to undo the clasp of her bra; watching as it falls away and reveals her smooth, shapely breasts. Ben barely has a second to look at them before she covers them with her arms. Rey is blushing, he notices when he looks up at her face. 

 

“They’re kind of small.” 

 

He gives her a reassuring smile, and removes her arms from around her torso. “Stop. They’re beautiful. Let me see them.” She halfheartedly struggles against his grasp for just a moment before giving in; fully displaying her pretty tits. “Like I said… fucking beautiful.” Ben gets the sudden urge to lick and suck at them. And he’s never been particularly good at denying his urges. 

 

His head moves on its own, burying his face in her supple bosom. His tongue darts out on its own, catching a pebbled nipple with its tip. It’s a risk that pays off. Ben hears her moan, and there are so many things happening at once that he can barely register them all. Her legs squeeze even tighter; keeping him locked firmly in place. She throws her head back into the pillows, and lets out a sigh of relief. And her hands end up in his hair again; tugging and yanking to her hearts content. He gives a gentle suck, watching as she comes apart underneath his mouth. With his fingers, he gives attention to her other nipple; rolling it between his tips. 

 

Rey’s hips start rolling on their own, right against his still clothed erection. He can feel the wetness as it seeps through her lacy undergarments; soaking the front of his boxers. He gives a few experimental thrusts, keeping a close watch on her reactions. Her eyes roll back into her head, and he can barely see any color except for white. 

 

Ben smirks against her bare chest; pressing a sweet kiss to her heartbeat. It’s thready and erratic, beating in complete mayhem. Her breathing isn’t much better; coming out shallow at times, and deep at others. Like  _ he’s  _ the one constricting it. Ben tries to shift a little bit, to allow her more space, but her legs prevent him from moving away. It’s definitely not his weight that’s crushing her. 

 

“Please!” She mewls; voice husky from wanton. “Please, more.” 

 

He smirks again, removing his mouth from her fully erect nipple. “What do you want, Sweetheart?” 

 

“More.” Rey repeats. “More.” 

 

“More what?” He hums, licking at her breast once again. “More of this?” 

 

“N-no.” She stutters, tearing at her own hair for a change. “Don’t tease me, Ben. I need you so bad.” 

 

“Now where’s the fun in that?” He’s a cruel, but fair lover. It’s a contradictory statement for sure, but Ben doesn’t do anything unless it’s in extremes. Either he’ll give a woman exactly what she wants the moment she wants it, or he’ll drag it out just a tad bit too long just to see how she’ll react. Not to mention the orgasm, which will be ten times stronger if he keeps teasing her to the breaking-point. 

 

His lips trail lower down her body, lapping underneath her tits, down to her belly - where he presses a subtle, featherlike kiss against her belly-button - all the way to the hem of her underwear. He pauses, lifts his eyes to look upon her face, which is red and flustered, before dragging the lacy panties down with his teeth. She spreads her legs fully, letting them fall to her sides. Ben uses the motion to his advantage; pulling her undergarments off completely. They land somewhere behind him, completely forgotten for the time being. 

 

His gaze falls on her glistering sex; light decorations of curls surrounding her pretty lips. “You’re so beautiful,  _ Rey. _ ” He croaks out, kissing the inside of her thigh. She moans in disappointment. “So, so,  _ beautiful.  _ And you look so  _ delicious.”  _ As to illustrate a point, he drags his tongue lazily to her slit. She hisses loudly. “Mmh, so delicious.” 

 

The musk and sweetness of her arousal makes his head spin. He can  _ smell  _ her want. It’s almost too much, his member growing impossibly hard. He finds the nub between her lips; licking it in slow circles. Rey falls apart underneath his touch; mewling with soft cries at every small motion. 

 

He takes her clit between his lips, gives a hard suck, and moves his tongue faster. She  _ screams  _ out in pleasure; almost suffocating him with her strong thighs. He places one hand on her stomach, over her womb, with the other one working its way into her tight heat. He can feel her cervix on the top of his finger every time he thrusts. She mutters incoherent words of encouragements, urging him to go faster. He inserts another digit; curling them upwards without breaking away for air. His nose is buried in her curls; rubbing against her mound. 

 

“Fuck, fuck, Ben. Please don’t stop. I’m cumming.” It’s his que to stop. He pulls away abruptly, earning him a hardened scowl. “What the fuck? I was so close!” He wipes his face on the back of his hand, giving her a crooked smirk. 

 

“I know.” He replies, finally kicking off the last of his clothes. He’s left completely bare before her. All of her anger melts away when she sees his naked body. She mutters  _ “sculpted by the Greek Gods”  _ underneath her breath, and Ben can’t help the chuckle that escaped his throat. 

 

He leans to the side, digging through his drawer for a condom. He finds a ribbed one which he’s sure she’ll love once he’s inside of her. Ben tears open the packet with his teeth, tossing the foil to the side. Rey gives him a passionate look, and grabs the rubber from his hand. “Let me do it.” She gives his cock a few pumps, and he swears he could have come right then and there. “Like that, don’t you?” 

 

“So much.” He murmurs, throwing his head back when she finally rolls the condom onto his leaking member. The second her lips wrap around the head of his cock, he’s a goner. This is the moment he dies and goes to heaven. Her tongue traces the underside of his shaft, wiggling back and forth. He’s on his knees, in his bed, with a beautiful woman’s lips around his cock.  _ Can life get any better than this?  _

 

He laughs in disbelief when she takes his hand in hers, placing it on her head. Ben grabs a good amount of hair; tugging only slightly. She moans; vibrations going straight to his core. He grunts in pleasure. “Fuck, baby. Just like that.” Rey hollows out her cheeks, looking him dead in the eyes. 

 

She goes further and further down his cock, until her nose hits the hair surrounding it. He’s fully down her throat, and he can feel the constrictions around his member when she tries her best not to gag. Ben is above average with his eight and half inches, which many women have failed to take into their mouths. He realizes now that he just hadn’t met the right girl. 

 

Rey is everything he could have wished for: intelligent, caring, sweet, compassionate, funny, and mind blowingly good at sucking cock. He throws his head back again, closing his eyes just to make the moment more intense. 

 

He can feel the pressure building up at the bottom of his spine, his balls tightening pending his release. “Sweetheart, you need to stop or this will be over too soon.” She, unlike him, actually does as she’s being told. With two more pumps, she removes herself completely. Ben gives her a weak smile. “How do you wanna do this?” 

 

She doesn’t answer verbally. Instead she spins around, so she’s on all fours in front of him, presenting herself like a dog in heat. Ben wastes no time positioning himself behind her; one hand digging into the flesh on her round bottom, and the other guiding himself to her entrance. He drags the tip of his hard member against her cunt a few times, coating himself with her wetness. 

 

“Put it in, Ben, please.” She sounds exasperated. And he agrees fully. He’s kept her waiting long enough. He slides the first inch in slowly, savoring the feeling of her tightness around his hard shaft. Inch by inch he sinks deeper, until he completely bottoms out. Rey moans loudly. “Fuuuck.” She stutters. 

 

He begins slowly, with a few shallow thrusts; using his now free hand to arch her by placing it on her small of her back and pressing down gently. She complies. “You’re so tight, Rey.” 

 

There’s a small huff of amusement, followed by more mewls and moans. “Fuck, Ben. It feels like you’re tearing me apart.” 

 

So help him God, just the mere thought makes him dizzy. There’s a dark seeded part of his mind that  _ wants  _ to completely break her; have her at his mercy. Another fears that he’s  _ actually  _ tearing her apart. But her groans are all the encouragement he needs. She’s not in pain, and she doesn’t want him to stop. 

 

Ben picks up the pace; the slapping sounds of his balls hitting against her turning him on beyond belief. There’s a thin sheen of sweat on her back. Ben leans forward, without slowing down, and kisses the back of her neck. 

 

“ _ Harder _ .” She demands. Ben is all too willing; slamming into her without any signs of stopping. By tomorrow, she’s sure to have bruises where his fingers are digging into the flesh around her hips. He gets a wicked idea. His movements still completely. “Already?” She mewls in disappointment. 

 

“Not exactly.” He replies, sounding out of breath. “I want you to do something for me.” 

 

“At this point, I’ll do anything.” She’s brutally candid in the throes of pleasure, he realizes. 

 

“I want you to fuck yourself on my cock, baby.” Rey moves backwards against him in a brutally slow pace, taking him inch for inch once more. He hits her cervix with each thrust; the angle enough to drag against the sweet spot inside of her. 

 

He can already feel her orgasm building; her cunt growing tighter with each thrust. “That’s it, Sweetheart. Take it all.” She’s all too eager to do as he says. It’s like heaven has opened up; white blinding lights dancing underneath his closed lids. “Touch yourself.” He demands in a husky voice. 

 

It doesn’t take long for her to explode; every movement of him inside of her enough to send her over the edge. She convulses around him; fluttering like a heartbeat. He can’t hold it off any longer. He needs to come. 

 

And so he does; buried deep within her. 

  
  
  


#  ☘️

  
  


“I never actually asked what you do for a living.” 

 

An hour, two grilled sandwiches, and a shower later they’re both safely snuggled in underneath the covers of his bed; TV on his wall providing them with a soft hue of light and background noise. It’s a horrible show about housewives that Ben has heard of many times but never actually bothered to watch. Rey seems to like the drama of it though; laughing every time a truly atrocious woman with obvious fake tits complains over a broken nail. 

 

Rey has her head placed on his naked chest; fingers drawing circles on every inch of skin she can reach. They’re both as bare as the day they were born underneath the soft duvet. It feels wonderful having someone pressed up against his side again. It’s been too long since he’s felt this content, happy, sated, and somewhat vulnerable in someone’s presence. 

 

Ben takes her hand in his, kissing each of her fingertips. When he’s done, he finally replies. “I’m a lawyer. I practice corporate law.”

 

“So, making sure that the fat cats stay fat?” She accuses. 

 

“Not at all. I make sure that the little guys don’t get stomped on all over by big corporations.” It’s time to finally let it all out, he decides. “When I was fresh out of law-school I took the first job that was offered to me without really thinking it through. My boss, a man named Walter Snoke, offered me a lot of money to basically look the other way whenever there were illegal dealings within the company.” 

 

“Illegal dealings?” She asks, sitting up abruptly. “Like murder and trafficking and such?” 

 

“Nothing  _ that  _ illegal.” He assures her. “More like environmental crimes. Illegal disposal of biohazard material, covering up sketchy dealings with companies that practically sold liquid death in vials, and the occasional bribe of a government official.” 

 

“You…” She’s uncertain of how to proceed, he notices when he looks into her eyes. “Your boss sounds like the devil.” 

 

“He really was.” Ben can at least omit to that much. Snoke had been the Devil incarnate, no doubt about it. “I quit after the drugs the First Order was selling caused the death of a fourteen year old girl. I couldn’t stand by any longer and do nothing.” 

 

“How did you get out?” 

 

“It wasn’t easy, and it took time.” Ben loathes thinking about his past, but it’s a necessary evil if he wants to stay by her side. Rey needs to know the truth… the whole truth. “After that happened, Snoke paid me to try and keep it out of the media. And I did. Keep in mind that at that point, I wasn’t really sure of what to do. I knew what the right thing was, but I didn’t have the courage to actually go through with it. Then, out of the blue, my father calls. Says he heard all about the whole scandal, and that he wants to meet up.”  _ One breath in, one breath out.  _ “My father knew all about being in the spotlight for all the wrong reasons. He went from being an airforce pilot into being a smuggler.” 

 

“I thought you said he owned his own auto-repair shop?” The puzzled expression is hard to miss. 

 

“He did, but that was years later… when the heat finally died down.” She nods in understanding. “Anyways, he calls me up one day while I was at work and asks me to meet up. I still don’t know why I said yes, but… I did. We met at an old diner he used to take me to as a kid. He said that he wanted to help me get out from underneath Snoke’s grasp. He roped my mother into helping, too.” Ben throws a glance her way to see if she’s still listening. To his great surprised, she looks completely immersed in his story. “I hadn’t spoken to either one of them for fourteen years at that point. But it was like I’d never left.” 

 

“So what did you do?” She asks. 

 

“My mom got the district attorney to cut me a deal. Full immunity, so long as I gave them all the dirt I had on the First Order. I’d been working there for three years by then, so you can imagine how much I had on them. I blew the whistle, went to court to testify, and Snoke went to jail. I found out that he died a month before my father did.” He sighs deeply, like a huge weight has been taken off his chest. “After the trial, I took a job at my mother’s company. She spends most of her time exposing corrupt politicians, crooked businessmen, and all around shady men and women. I just help with the legal side of it all.” 

 

“A corporate lawyer with a conscience.” She jests.

 

“Well, we do exist, believe it or not.” He quips playfully with a wide grin on his face. “And I make sure that no-one gets stomped on.” 

 

“A referee, basically.” 

 

“That’s not strictly speaking true.” He says. She lies back down on his shoulder, placing a gentle kiss over his heart. “I am partial to the side I’ve chosen, and I stand by the one I’m representing. One such example is when a big-pharma company tried to bribe me into tanking the trial.” 

 

“Isn’t that illegal?” She gapes openly. 

 

“Now you’re getting it.” He kisses her nose sweetly. “That doesn’t mean people won’t still try. People will do just about anything to get the fire out from underneath their ass. Even bribe the lawyer on the opposing side into dropping all charges.” 

 

“But it doesn’t work that way, does it?” 

 

He snorts. “Of course not. The environmental company I was representing at the trial walked away with millions in collateral damages for what big pharma had done. And, as a cherry on top of the sundae, the guy who tried to bribe me went to prison for attempting to tamper with a witness, and about a thousand other charges were brought up against him. One amongst them being aggravated assault, battery, and attempted homicide on a federal judge when he tried to skewer him with a pencil when they lost the case. That was a wild day.” He recalls it all vividly. Thankfully the judge had just gotten a small nick on his forehead, but it was still enough to land the representer of big pharma in a nice an cosy cell; awaiting his own trial. 

 

“Jesus, Mary, and Joseph.” She exclaims. It all sounds more dramatic with her lilting accent to boot. “To think people like that actually exist.” 

 

“And practiced law at one point.” Ben chimes in. “Though the state took away his license pretty quickly after the whole ordeal. Jail and being a lawyer doesn’t really go hand in hand.” 

 

“And now you work for your mother, defending the little guys.” Rey brushes the hair out of his face; looking at him with such adoration that it makes him swoon. It’s a moment of weakness, followed by complete and utter acceptance of his fate. She would be his ruin, and for once he doesn’t have any complaints about a woman taking over his life. He’s laid bare in the palm of her hand; completely at her mercy. 

 

“And now I work for my mother, defending the little guys.” He repeats. “And I couldn’t be happier.” 

 

Their night ends with the re-runs of a housewife show, two idiots falling head over heels in love with each other, and sweet whispers of tomorrow. The first glimmers of sunshine break through the window by the time they fall asleep; wrapped up in each others arms. 

 

_ He  _ **_truly_ ** _ could not be happier…  _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Did I mention how awkward I feel writing smut? No? Well, now I have. 
> 
> I hope I did at least semi-good, and that the fluff balances out the lack of immersion during the sexy parts. The few times I’ve actually written smut in the past, it’s been very dispassionate; partially because I don’t really feel confident about writing it, and the other part because it’s - as I said - incredibly awkward. ^///^ 
> 
> Feel free to register any complaints you have in the little comment box below. It’s hungry for feedback ;) Thank you so much for reading, and I hope you’ll leave a kudos to show your appreciation. ^^ 
> 
> Oh, and happy Easter, folks ;) Hope you have a wonderful day. <3


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